Rain drummed softly on the tin roof of the old school building, the water collecting in small puddles near the steps where a cluster of new students waited anxiously, holding damp admission forms. Some were chatting nervously, others shifting their weight, trying to shield themselves under a cracked veranda.
Among them sat a boy, alone, on a broken bench near the edge where the rain splashed dangerously close to his shoes. His hair was damp, strands sticking to his forehead, but his pen moved steadily across the admission form in his lap. His name was Mangesh.
> "Huh… so I have to fill this out again? Seriously, what a headache…" he muttered under his breath, pressing his pen harder than needed.
He finished the form and stood up, clutching the paper to his chest as he made his way toward the office. The corridor smelled of wet earth and chalk dust, echoing faintly with the voices of teachers and the occasional slap of water dripping from the ceiling.
Inside the office, the headmaster, a thin man with sharp eyes and a grey mustache, was scolding a trembling student.
> "Hahaha! Failed again, didn't you?" the headmaster laughed coldly. "Don't even bother studying if all you want to do is fool around! Call your parents here, let's see what they say!"
Hearing this, Mangesh's stomach twisted.
> "They're talking about calling parents now? God… what will happen to me…" he whispered to himself, shifting uncomfortably.
A moment later, his name was called. Mangesh took a deep breath, stepped forward, and greeted the headmaster with quiet respect.
> "So, you're here for admission?" the headmaster asked, glancing at the drenched boy.
> "Yes, sir," Mangesh replied.
> "Which class?"
> "Tenth class again, sir."
The headmaster's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the rain outside seemed to fall even harder.
> "Ah… I should've known. Students like you… what else can we expect?" he scoffed, shaking his head. "Say whatever you want, but you people never change. I already knew it."
He held out his hand sharply.
> "Give me your admission form."
Mangesh quietly handed over the form, gripping the strap of his old bag with his other hand. The headmaster stamped the paper without looking at him again. Just like that, his admission was complete.
Mangesh turned and walked toward his new-old classroom, his shoes squeaking softly on the wet floor. The rain continued outside as if marking his quiet return.
---
Inside the classroom, an English teacher was already lecturing, his voice dry and clipped, matching the dull light filtering through the iron-barred windows. Mangesh hesitated at the door.
> "Sir… may I come in?" he asked softly.
> "Come in," the teacher replied without looking up.
This was Mr. Sahu, the English teacher, known for his harsh remarks and for disliking most students, especially those like Mangesh.
As Mangesh stepped into the class, Mr. Sahu finally looked up, squinting.
> "Huh, you're that boy, aren't you? Always sitting outside, wasting time…"
> "Yes, sir," Mangesh replied quietly, trying to keep his voice steady.
A smirk appeared on Mr. Sahu's face.
> "Ah, now I remember. You were in Class 10 last year too, weren't you?" he chuckled, his eyes sharp with sarcasm. "Failed, did you?"
The entire class turned to look at Mangesh, whispers and stifled giggles spreading like ripples in a pond. A flush of heat crept up Mangesh's neck as his hands tightened around the strap of his bag.
His mind went blank for a moment.
And there, under the weight of mocking eyes and the sound of rain against the glass,
the chapter ends.
– To be continued –